Chapter 610: Code Name: Sand King (Two)

Thales instinctively looked around but found the small Ballard Room just as quiet and undisturbed as before.

With the sun now below the horizon, the room was bathed in soft lamplight.

From a distance, King Kessel’s cold stare felt like a threat, as sharp as a knife’s edge at Thales’ throat.

“That’s something,” Thales sighed, abandoning his search for Yodel’s whereabouts. “When we were out there, he never paid this much attention to what I said.”

Thales narrowed his eyes and tried to calm himself, much like loosening one’s muscles before a big battle.

“But just one thing: are you absolutely certain he actually left?”

The Iron Hand King’s response was blunt, and his words were biting and swift. “You have fifteen minutes.”

fifteen minutes

Thales fell silent for a moment.

Clearly, these fifteen minutes wouldn’t be filled with ‘warm and fuzzy father-son’ moments.

He thought to himself, and with a resigned nod, he said, “Not bad at all. Just so you know, those

Northerners back then only gave me two minutes.”

Kessel the Fifth sneered.

“And you’ve already wasted half of it.”

His tone made the sense of urgency impossible to ignore.

When Thales heard Kessel’s stern words, he needed to take a gulp of air and steel himself for what lay ahead. After all, he had come this far and made so many sacrifices, all to confront this situation—to stand before his windmill—hadn’t he?

With that thought in mind, Thales suppressed his emotions and spoke plainly.

“After last night’s banquet, you strong-armed flowery duke—I mean, the Duke of Iris Flowers— into obtaining this petition. You pressed for taxes and conscription while urging the entire nation to follow suit.”1

Thales leaned forward slightly and placed his hand on the letter resting on the table.

“Now it appears you did this to address today’s issue at the Imperial Conference. Lord Solder aims to expand the regular army, and you needed both funds and a justification.”

King Kessel turned his gaze to the petition but remained silent.

“So, that’s the reason behind today’s events. You and Advisor Solder had this all planned out in the Ballard Room,” Thales continued, his tone turning colder.

“Or should I say, you both conspired beforehand, with him taking the forefront and you strategically directing from behind the scenes, acting as an insider, seamlessly cooperating.”2 However, it seemed his words had little impact.

“Hah, you must be quite the genius, seeing through the Kingdom’s secrets,” King Kessel responded with a hint of sarcasm, showing no sign of being affected. “Why didn’t the other lords at the Imperial Conference think of this?”

Thales grimaced.

“Yes, it’s pretty obvious. Maybe even the Star Killer could see it. The ministers probably just chose to keep it under wraps,” he added, or maybe they simply didn’t dare.

But in the next moment, Thales’ expression changed.

“However, something doesn’t add up,” he continued, picking up Zayen’s letter and leaning forward, speaking softly, “The timing.”

King Kessel squinted, and Thales kept his gaze locked on him. Neither of them uttered a word. The steady flame of the Lamp flickered, casting ripples and mysterious shadows around the room, like turbulent undercurrents beneath the depths of the sea.

“So, the belief is that a random incident from last night somehow miraculously solved the issues faced this morning?” Thales questioned, keeping his gaze locked on King Kessel’s face. “It seems a bit too coincidental, doesn’t it?”

King Kessel, unresponsive, as if Thales’ words were of no consequence.

Thales shrugged slightly, casually tossing aside the letter. “In the world of politics, coincidences are a rarity.”

“Either you possessed some uncanny foresight and set up an elaborate trap at the banquet, waiting for Zayen to cross the line so you could exploit it for blackmail…”3

“Or, you adapted on the fly, got a sudden idea after the banquet incident, pressured Zayen into writing that petition, and then instructed Lord Solder to promptly present it at the Imperial Conference.”4

A brief silence hung over the Ballard Room.

“These are rather bold speculations,” King Kessel finally responded, his tone dripping with condescension. “It appears the Secret Intelligence’s assessment of you is quite accurate.”

Thales responded with a faint smile and a nod, saying, “That’s the thing.”

He continued, “No matter if this letter was part of a long-term plan or just a spur-of-the-moment decision, something about it didn’t feel quite right to me.”

“It wasn’t until I followed your orders and went to the Secret Intelligence that I stumbled upon something,” Thales said, his voice picking up urgency.

King Kessel, for once, showed a flicker of interest with a slight furrow in his brow.

“First and foremost,” Thales pressed on, speaking earnestly, “I can confirm that Anker Byrael’s attack at the banquet wasn’t orchestrated by anyone—at least not by you.”

The King remained immobile, and it felt like he was speaking to a stone statue. But Thales knew better.

“If I hadn’t publicly exposed that it was Zayen who brought the weapon used in the attack, no one would have known.”

“And bringing up the conflict between Byrael and Doyle at the banquet wouldn’t have been in the best interest of the Kingdom’s stability or your own,” Thales continued, shaking his head. His confidence was unshaken.

“At the very least, I can conclude one thing: the incident at the banquet wasn’t premeditated by

you.

King Kessel didn’t react much to Thales’ words. He simply remarked, “They were quite lenient at Secret Department to let you meet with high-profile criminals just like that.”

Thales responded with a polite smile, “Next, you sent me to Secret Department to see the mess I had created for myself, hoping that I learned my lesson.”

The King huffed dismissively, “Clearly, you haven’t learned much.”

Thales took a moment to breathe and glanced at the scar on his left hand. He recalled the words of the Black Prophet in the interrogation room:

“What matters isn’t what specific actions you take, or… if you do it right or wrong. It’s your position and existence. ”

“Under power’s might, there’s a difference between where you stand and where others stand… no matter what you do upstream in the realm of power, what is meant to happen will always happen. ’’ Thales looked up and said, “That’s right. Holding this position means that every action I take carries significant implications and consequences.”

“Whether it’s my dislike for alcohol, my preference for lettuce, my willingness to duel, or my involvement in Northlanders’ smuggling… my choices above have consequences below. I must acknowledge and take responsibility for the outcomes of my actions, given my position.”

“Very well,” King Kessel responded with a slight scoff,

“So, have you thought about how you’ll take responsibility for the Prince’s rebellion?”

But then Thales’ expression changed, and he added,

“But!”

what is meant to happen will always happen

Thales paused briefly and then spoke decisively,

“Later on, someone pointed something out to me. Do you have any idea how many obstacles there are, from managing finances to dealing with the market, from handling taxes to setting budgets, from running the government to the people’s livelihood? It’s a long chain with countless hurdles.”5 Thales smirked and pointed towards the darkness outside the window,

“Do you think this is a puppet show where the King’s fingers moves and the street thugs follow suit?”

In that moment, the King’s gaze flickered slightly,

“Who told you that?” he asked, his tone icy.

But Thales shook his head, choosing not to answer.

“So, when I thought about what I saw at the royal banquet, I realised something more,” Thales said, leaning on the edge of the table, his eyes fixed on the King.

“During these days, the Central Territory, especially the industries around the capital like agriculture, medicine, tobacco, alcohol, forging, leather, and textiles, all went through an unusual, significant, and prolonged period of turmoil.”

“And that is not something that can be affected by the whims and fancies of Thales Jadestar alone.”

In that fleeting moment, King Kessel tilted his chin ever so slightly.

Though it lasted just a heartbeat, Thales didn’t miss it.

“So, I started to wonder if behind the public uproar and the push for ‘The Prince likes lettuce while the farmers go hungry’,” he said, taking a deep breath and thinking back to a series of encounters, from the banquet to the Secret Department, all the way down to the Red Street Market and the Lower City.

Thales’ gaze sharpened,

“What is the Secret Department trying to keep under wraps?”

“What’s actually happening in the Kingdom?”

Thales let his words hang in the air.

The cold wind blew into the room, blowing the flame of the Everlasting Lamp into a flickering mess and casting a disordered play of light and shadows.

In response, the King let out a scoff.

“You’re just making up baseless theories,” he retorted.6

King Kessel turned his head, half-burying his face in the darkness, as if his interest was waning, “Haven’t you had enough of your little conspiracies?”

A surge of frustration and unease coursed through Thales, a feeling he knew well but couldn’t quite place.

“Then, I saw it!” He burst out, his voice unwittingly rising, his words quickening,

“Be it the mismatch between food and wine supply and demand, the sudden scarcity of medicinal herbs driving up medicine prices, or the clashes between underworld gangs vying for control in the market, Northerners trying to stock up on winter provisions only to run into trade roadblocks. There’s also an unusual migration from the borderlands to the heartland and metalworkers being quietly drafted into the army, and who knows what else…”

Thales found himself clenching his teeth.

In that moment, it was as if he had returned to the Heroic Spirit Palace, facing the six Northern Archdukes—and the Archduchess.

“All this—the ripples at the end of the power chain—it’s not your usual market happenings, and they’re certainly not the result of my ‘Prince keeping his good figure’ image either. Rather, it feels more like the mess left behind after someone with a whole lot of muscle meddling heavily in all

sorts of sectors: mass production, stockpiling, population shifts, shipping goods, controlling everything… happening behind closed doors…”7

Just then, the King suddenly spoke, breaking his thoughts.

“Where.”

Thales blinked in surprise. “Where?”

King Kessel spoke in a hushed tone, his voice deep and authoritative.

“After leaving the Secret Department…”

He leaned in, his face emerging from the shadows, like a lion assessing the perfect moment to

pounce.

“Where else did you go? What did you do? Who did you meet?”

Each word from King Kessel came slower, yet with a growing urgency and a sense of danger lurking beneath.

‘Where else did I go? What did I do? Who did I meet?’

Thales paused for a moment.

One Night Stand, the Laya Club, Grove Pharmacy, the Sunset Pub, and even those old Abandoned Houses…

Kohen, Sissy, Lilian, Tinker, Grove, Morris, Layork…

All of them.

‘My past.’

Thales tightened his fists.

But he took a deep breath, dispelling his faint fear of facing the King. In its place, he felt a heightened sense of caution and vigilance, ready to confront a formidable adversary.

“Let me think… Hmm.”

He leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face, and his voice carried a laid-back confidence.

“You know, in the Red Street Market, down in the Lower City, getting ‘friendly’, getting into a few scraps here and there. Mingling with men, women, and… uh, the sort who don’t quite fit those labels.”

King Kessel raised an eyebrow.

Thales kept his grin intact.

“If you were to ask the Ass-Head or those Ass-stalkers of mine, they’d probably tell you the same.” In the next second, the King’s raised eyebrow relaxed.

“That old beggar’s crib, right?”

King Kessel snorted lightly, as if discussing a minor matter.

“Even after all these years, you’re still in cahoots with that bunch.”

beggar’s crib

“Every time you get a little banged up, you still haul your sorry self back there, just like a cub running back to its mother, bawling its eyes out to find its guts.”

As his words trailed off, King Kessel turned his head, slyly glancing in his direction.

Thales couldn’t help but shiver a bit as he met the other’s gaze, suddenly understanding where that familiar yet strange feeling of resentment had come from.

He recognised that look in the King’s eyes.

Six years ago, he was brought back from the Abandoned Houses by Yodel. It was within the grand walls of Mindis Hall that he first encountered this imposing man.

Back then, the King’s expression was much the same.

Full of disdain.

Cold indifference.

Utter apathy.

Thales closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

But this time…

“A long time ago, everything changed the moment my grandfather took me away. ”

Glover’s dejected words echoed in his mind:

“We—Lilian, Tinker, and I…”

“There is no turning back for us. ”

“Ever. ”

The teenager’s eyes snapped open!

“So, to sum it up, I’m pretty sure about the second point.”

Thales’ expression turned serious as he grabbed the letter adorned with an iris flower.

“Father, the contents of this letter suggest it’s not a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

King Kessel knitted his brow, showing some surprise.

Thales enunciated his words clearly, smoothing out his explanation as he went, shedding his earlier unease around the King.

“Even before Lord Solder’s bold proposal, the expansion of the royal family’s regular army was already quietly but surely underway across the Central Territory. This encompassed everything, from supplies and equipment to logistics and even potential recruitment and garrison locations.”8 “If we account for the time spent on planning, preparation, investigation, coordination, mobilisation, and execution, it might have gone on for several months, maybe even a year or two. It’s much like a wartime mobilisation, just without the usual fanfare to avoid causing market disruptions or tipping your hand.”9

Thales narrowed his eyes.

“It’s gone to the extent that even the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department has been working tirelessly to plug leaks and has even had to use the Prince’s name.”

King Kessel’s expression grew more intense.

With a quick, sharp motion, Thales placed Zayen’s letter firmly on the table.

“From this, it’s pretty obvious that Lord Solder’s proposal for expansion wasn’t just a matter of informing you and getting your approval.”

He locked eyes with the King and said bluntly,

“You. along with the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department, must have been planning this for a while, and you’re dead set on making it happen!”

A weighty silence fell over the chambers.

“Hmph.”

A few seconds later, the Iron Hand King’s grunt barely broke the silence.

“So, you aren’t all that dumb, huh? Least you got more sense than that coin-hungry Kirkirk—how in the world did Banks ever think of promoting him?”10

Seeing the King’s reaction, Thales grew even more confident in his judgment.

He chuckled, as if letting go of the previous tension.

“Now, that brings us to the next question.”

“If the letter supporting the expansion from Zayen wasn’t something you had planned in advance, and the expansion proposal wasn’t a last-minute decision either…” Thales’ expression turned serious.

His voice carried a touch of coldness as he continued, “So, what’s your actual intention here?” Faced with the Prince’s inquiry. King Kessel chose to stay silent, but his gaze intensified.

Thales unfolded his finger and went on.

“From quietly preparing for the expansion, to the unexpected incident at the royal banquet, to coercing Zayen into that letter, to the heated debate at the Imperial Conference about the expansion—each of these steps towards your goal—some were clearly well thought out, while others were purely fortunate occurrences.” He smirked.

“Are you suggesting that when it comes to the Kingdom’s politics, you’re going half by plan and half by chance, half-calculated and half-relying on luck?”

King Kessel responded with an equally wry smile.

“Isn’t that precisely what you’re doing?” The King tutted, “Breaking into the palace to make a statement, resorting to violence to gain attention,

“Half-planned, and half by chance?”

Thales paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

He took a quiet breath, reminding himself not to fall into any traps.

“Then, I thought back about this morning’s Imperial Conference.”

“Today, Lord Solder talked about the issues with conscription and suggested expanding the regular army, but he faced strong opposition.”

“Starting with the Prime Minister, most of the courtiers were taken by surprise and weren’t ready for his proposal. In finance, diplomacy, agriculture, and production, there were shortages everywhere. The Finance Department didn’t have enough funds, no budget, public opinion, and morality were not in their favour, and various departments complained about resource shortages.”

King Kessel’s gaze shifted.

Thales noticed that although the King, who had been as still as a statue, remained silent, his face now showed some emotion.

This discovery excited him, as if an unbreakable and perfect formation had finally been breached after a series of attacks.

“The conditions and circumstances were far from perfect. Even though everyone knew it was your intention. Solder’s proposal faced heavy resistance. In the end, he had to lower his demands and make repeated concessions, limiting the military reform to just Eternal Star City and the Jadestar Private Army.”12

Thales changed the gears,

“So, here’s what’s really puzzling me: You, the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department, and Lord Solder had been planning this for a while, right? This is a large-scale national policy decision that has already been quietly set in motion. But why? Why didn’t you inform your own people beforehand? Why wasn’t there any mention at the Imperial Conference? When it all unfolded, the Kingdom found itself in a tight spot, and your vassals were up in arms. You were running low on funds, influence, and necessary manpower.”13

Thales kept his eyes fixed on the King, waiting for a reply.

“And then, you had to rely on an unlucky bastard like Zayen, who stumbled upon your plans just yesterday, to gather support and provide the initial funds?”14

A brief silence followed.

In that moment, King Kessel’s expression turned cold, as if he were pointing fingers at Thales. “Why?” Thales pressed further.

He kept his expression impassive and spoke in a less-than-friendly tone, “Because you didn’t have a clue.”

didn’t have a clue

Thales found himself cracking a smile.

“I honestly don’t get it,” he said sincerely. “Your actions clearly show well-thought-out planning and a strong resolve. But because of poor communication, coordination, and unfavourable circumstances, you had no choice but to reluctantly step back and rely on luck to make up for the shortcomings.”

The teenager’s expression turned frosty.

“In this matter, your political skills seem rather subpar—pathetic.”

In response, the Iron Hand King let out a soft, faint huff, making it hard to tell if it was annoyance or disdain.

Thales shook his head, his expression earnest.

“No, this doesn’t seem like you at all. Iron Hand King, Kessel Jadestar the Fifth.”

“It goes against your typical character—decisive, strong-willed, and never one to compromise. It’s also not in line with the Secret Department’s reputation for meticulous planning and readiness. Look at ‘Dragon’s Blood’. Overnight, Northland fell apart, the Great Dragon roared, and Eckstedt descended into chaos due to internal strife. That was a prime example of your strategic brilliance, shaking up the world.”16

Kessel the Fifth remained stone-faced when ‘Dragon’s Blood’ was mentioned.

Thales raised his head, adjusting his clothes as he spoke plainly.

“There’s only one way to explain it.”

“Firstly, you had indeed been planning the expansion of the regular army for a long time.” Thales asserted firmly,

“The royal family’s regular army, this chariot of the Kingdom, was set to march forward unstoppably under your command.”

King Kessel kept silent, but sometimes silence carried a weight of its own.

Thales continued in a subdued tone.

“However, this extortion letter clearly wasn’t part of the plan.”

The Prince offered a wry smile and added,

“Because, in your original plan, the very warhorse meant to propel the Kingdom’s chariot under your control unexpectedly ran out of control and stumbled.”

At that moment, King Kessel’s fingers twitched almost imperceptibly.

“So, you found yourself in a situation where you had to make do with what you had, settle for less, and use whatever resources were available. The South Coast and its flowery duke were no different—like a couple of lost, clueless ponies stumbling into the stable. You wasted no time in fitting them with harnesses, tying them to the waggon, and rushing them into action.”17

Thales kept his eyes fixed on his father, sliding Zayen’s ‘Petition’ to the centre of the table so that the iris emblem faced the King.

“Making substitutions to fill the quota, plain and simple.”18

Thales paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

Until King Kessel’s face finally revealed a few unexpected changes,

“Warhorses and chariots,” the King scoffed, reaching for Zayen’s letter.

“How fascinating.”

Thales keenly observed each flicker of emotion on his father’s face, a faint smile gracing his lips.19 “But. like I said, that flowery duke isn’t some sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.” The Prince’s smile faded as he adopted a more serious tone.

“It’s safe to say this new phoney horse isn’t just lacking enthusiasm; it also has an unsteady gait. The boss isn’t exactly thrilled; it’s huffing and puffing as it pulls the cart.

“At best, it’s nothing more than mediocre.

Thales’ tone took a different turn.

“Now, as for that original, the genuine one…”

In that moment, King Kessel’s gaze became as sharp as a sword’s edge.

The young man curled up the corner of his mouth.

“I would say, when you compare it to the flowery lil’ duke, who’s basically just there to fill in…” “It must have far fewer problems. It’s robust, with strong hooves, a diligent worker, and dependable.”20

“No doubt it’s top-tier.”

The Iron Hand King stayed silent, gently placing the letter down and patiently waiting for Thales to continue.

The Prince’s voice slowly grew more animated, as if he were unfolding a story.

“Take, for example, how it lets you expand the regular army without worrying about budget shortfalls or public opinion pressures. You don’t even have to deal with the ministers in the Imperial Conference or get tangled up in arguments with the Kingdom’s seasoned departments.” Thales spoke leisurely, noticing King Kessel’s frown deepening.

“As long as you, Solder, and The Black Prophet are the powerhouse trio of the crown, the Ministry of Military Affairs, and the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department, that should be enough to handle the issue.”

“Safe, smooth, successful, under the radar, and no loose ends. Expanding the royal family’s regular army.”

Thales exhaled and narrowed his eyes.

“Or even more.”

The Iron Hand King took in the young man’s words but didn’t respond right away.

The Ballard Room fell into a heavy silence, and even the gentle glow of the lights seemed to hang still.

Thales, on the other hand, was patient.

He knew the lay of this particular land quite well.

After a long pause, the Iron Hand King finally spoke in a low voice.

“So, how did you come across this real horse?”

Thales held his gaze on him for a while before nodding slightly.

“I learned about the situation in the west from various sources.”

in the west.

King Kessel stayed quiet.

Thales continued at a measured pace.

“I know that ever since the Bloody Year, the Western Frontline has held steady for many years. The vassals from the Western Desert, led by Fakenhaz, have become so crafty and experienced that nothing, whether soothing, warning, or even strong-arming, seems to work.”2

“But you can’t risk upsetting the entire nation or severing ties with them, can you? You can’t just let the Legendary Wing off the leash and have them go on a bloodbath. Treating nobles the same way you treat orc prisoners of war would plunge the entire Constellation into chaos.”22 Thales turned serious.

“So, I couldn’t help but wonder, a few months ago when you spent a lot of our resources and sent the royal family’s regular army into the challenging terrain of the Western Desert.”

“You weren’t there to intimidate the dukes because that wouldn’t work.”

“Nor were you there to wipe out their families because, frankly, you wouldn’t dare.”

“Nor were you there to roll out the welcome mat for a son coming from a thousand miles away…” A spark gleamed in Thales’ eyes.

“Because, let’s face it, in your eyes, I’m not that high on the priority list.”

A palpable coldness settled in the Ballard Room.

King Kessel’s gaze slowly changed. He leaned forward, abandoning the backrest of his chair without even realising it.

“That’s right. Lord Solder’s proposal this morning, such as reducing the Jadestar Private Army and experimenting with expanding the regular army in the Central Territory, is just the beginning.” “And as for the months, even years, of secret preparations, it’s not just about expansion.” Thales’ voice carried a cutting edge.

“A few months ago, in the Western Desert, right before I returned to the Kingdom…”

“You sent the three main forces of the royal family’s regular army to conquer the challenging Western Desert, even with the expected losses, and for no other reason than…”

As the Prince talked, King Kessel s eyes slowly narrowed.

Thales continued calmly, in the most matter-of-fact tone, revealing a truth that was nothing short of astonishing,23

“To legitimately expand your royal family’s regular army on a substantial scale, right after the Desert War, during the dire orc and Barren Bone people invasion,”24

“You aimed to capitalise on the rare opportunity when the suzerains of the Western Desert gathered, laying out all their wealth—plundering their riches, absorbing their resources—all to fill your own military coffers.”

“Then, right when the feudal lords inexplicably suffered major losses in battle, you planned to smoothly disband their bloated and inefficient conscripted armies without any fuss.”

The cold wind whistled outside, and the lamp’s flickering shadows danced.

Thales’ gaze became piercing, his mood heavy,

“Building upon the long-standing military control of the Western Frontline, you had to implement immediate military reforms, redefine border defences, and reinstate rules and regulations.”

“In the end, much like Blessings Town losing its autonomy, you aimed to strip away the Western Desert vassals’ independent military obligations and rights at their very core.”

King Kessel dipped his head slightly, and the flickering lights created shadows under his eyes. Thales clenched his teeth.

“Power comes with violence.”

“After over a hundred years of King Mindis the Third’s efforts to weaken their economic, political, cultural, diplomatic, and privileged status…”

“You, Iron Hand King, Kessel the Fifth, aim to command the strength of thousands, as powerful as a thunderstorm, as swift as lightning, and as relentless as a tidal wave…”

“Right there, in the Western Desert, your goal is to sweep away the natural military rights of the feudal lords and nobles, rights they’ve held since the Kingdom’s beginning, relegating them to history’s pages.”

Thales kept his gaze on the silent King Kessel, memories of his encounter with Chapman Lampard in the Heroic Spirit Palace surfacing.

“Once successful, families in the Western Desert, be they as prominent as Fakenhaz or as modest as Byrael, will become nothing more than wealthy landowners with empty titles and assets. All that will remain are their family trees and history, powerless in the face of the King’s authority.” “And eventually, this change will spread to the entire nation, heralding a new era of Constellation’s rule.”

Thales said faintly,

“Completing the Virtuous King’s chessboard—the final move.”

King Kessel chose to say nothing.

Instead, he simply gazed intensely at the second Prince.

“All of this,” after a considerable pause, King Kessel’s voice broke the stillness, soft and subdued, “Did you come up with it yourself?” Thales’ expression changed slightly.

“No, not at all.

“I was just told.”

King Kessel’s attention shifted.

“Who?”

Thales lifted his head, meeting the question with calm acceptance.

“Everyone.”

King Kessel looked puzzled.

Thales offered a smile in response.

“From the loftiest nobles to the everyday people at the bottom,

“Even you.”

“Your Majesty.”

King Kessel frowned deeply.

But Thales couldn’t stop himself from snorting.

“Do you recall what you told me the first time we met after I returned to the country?

“That sword.

“And how, because of that sword, I became the Duke of Star Lake.”

King Kessel narrowed his eyes.

The Duke of Star Lake raised his head, his eyes shining brightly.

“So, why did you have such reservations about me accepting Fakenhaz’s sword?” Thales inquired, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s not about what’s already happened, but rather the events that were supposed to unfold in the Western Desert, according to your plan, but ultimately didn’t.” King Kessel’s eyes slowly widened.

“Yes, your attempt in the Western Desert didn’t go as planned. You couldn’t carry out your military reform there under the exceptional conditions you had in mind.”27

“Instead, the horse stumbled and fell short of success, not because of anything else, but…”28 Thales raised a finger, gently pointing at himself.

“Me.”

The Prince’s words hung in the air.

A silence blanketed the Ballard Room, and stillness settled in every corner.

For a full ten seconds, the Iron Hand King offered no response.

But the way he looked at Thales slowly changed.

From the earlier scorn and indifference.

To something else…

“Ah, I see now,” Kessel the Fifth finally said in a hushed tone.

“How you made it out alive in the north,”

“Polaris, right?”

Polaris

Under the table, Thales clenched his fists tightly.

He hadn’t made a mistake.

At that moment, the King’s eyes held a profound gravity.

It felt unfamiliar.

And a bit wary.

Thales grinned slightly and picked up the pace in his speech.

“So, have I grown fast enough now?”

King Kessel raised an eyebrow in response.

“Enough to bear the weight of Constellation?”

Thales narrowed his eyes as he sized up the King.

“Enough to step into this chess game?”

Thales spoke in a relaxed tone, with a sprinkle of sarcasm.

But in a flash, the Iron Hand King suddenly looked up, and his demeanour took a sharp turn!

“For that, just a moment ago,” Kessel’s words had an icy edge, and his gaze was as piercing as a dagger.

“Can all this talk of yours make up for the reckless act of barging into the palace?”

Thales blinked in surprise.

“Well, maybe those are two separate matters…”

But King Kessel scoffed, not mincing words.

“Then what’s the point of saying all that shit?”

“Just bear the weight of your own actions.”

At that crude response, Thales had to pause.

“I’ll give it to you; your little act was quite a show.”

“But too bad, your fifteen minutes of fame are up.”

“Tell Vanguard Marigo that I’ve granted him permission to carry out the Prince’s punishment— for trespassing into the palace, an act of grave treason.”

With that, the Iron Hand King turned his head, putting an abrupt and harsh end to the conversation. Thales frowned.

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

His father wasn’t the type to get easily shaken by surprises.

Even when it came to…

His own son.

But just a second later, Thales’ expression softened.

“Do you want it?”

King Kessel scowled.

In that narrow, dark, and cold Ballard Room, Thales rubbed his arms without bothering to look across the long table.

“Do you still want it?”

The Iron Hand King didn’t lift his head, but a trace of doubt flickered in his eyes.

Thales took a deep breath, pointing at the letter on the table and saying plainly,

“Like I said, Zayen won’t let you have the upper hand easily. This subpar horse will only walk into landmines; it won’t be the smoothest ride.

“But, do you still want it?”

In that moment, Thales recalled Stake’s persuasive tone used in the tavern,

“Do you still want to see it happen? To change Constellation’s history like never before, or maybe even reshape the entire world of Errol?”

King Kessel’s expression changed slightly.

The Prince’s voice grew quieter, and his words thought-provoking,

“To reform the military, reshape the legal system, unite the armies of the feudal lords, and empower the King’s forces.”

“From then on, to have the royal family’s regular army as the only legitimate and potent military force in the Western Desert?”

The room fell back into silence.

Only a few seconds later, the King’s voice returned, hoarse and cold, with each word carefully articulated,

“What do you mean, exactly?”

Thales clenched his fists tightly.

In that moment, he suddenly felt that the immense pressure the King had once placed on him—the burden that had made it hard to breathe—had completely disappeared.

“If the answer is ‘yes’,” Thales said with a steady voice,

“Then…”

Their eyes met in the air.

“I can lend a hand.”

I can lend a hand

At that moment, the Iron Hand King’s gaze turned dangerous, stern, and subtly intense.

He turned to face Thales once more.

“You…”

“Remember, Father,” Thales interrupted him, feeling a newfound lightness in the air, “when I said,

‘I’m here to save you’…”

He smiled gently, his eyes sparkling.

“I meant every word.

“When at the time you, the supreme Iron Hand King of Constellation, found yourself with no other choice but to ride this phoney pony, donning rusty armour and a battered helmet, enduring the

rough terrain while putting on a show of strength and confidence—all in pursuit of your Constellation dreams.”

King Kessel’s gaze turned icy in an instant.

Thales burst into laughter and spread his hands.

“Why do you really think I care about that worn-out crown of yours?”

In the Ballard Room, the two of them stood apart, with only the lamplight and the cold wind as their witnesses.

The Iron Hand King paused for a moment, then shook his head firmly.

“No, it won’t make up for your foolish actions today. The Constellation Prince’s rebellion to force an abdication—there’s no escaping the punishment.”

Thales’ spirits sank.

“I understand, but that’s a different matter.”

Thales looked back at him.

“What do you say, Father?”

King Kessel remained quiet, his unrelenting gaze fixed on his son.

In their silent standoff, Thales was the first to relent.

“Alright, I see your point. Even if it’s not in the Western Desert, there’s always the South Coast.

You’ll figure it out one way or another…”

He sighed, rose from his seat, and headed for the door.

“So, I’ll be on my way.”

Thales waved his hand casually. “You can confine me to Mindis Hall. Whether it’s flogging or the gallows, it’s your call… Actually, scratch the gallows; I’m not too fond of the idea of being strangled.”

Right at that moment,

“Sand King.”

Thales paused in his steps, his hand resting on the doorknob.

The Duke of Star Lake raised his head, not turning around but just gazing at the dark, cold stone door.

“What?”

The King’s powerful voice rumbled from behind, still as icy as ever. It was unclear whether it conveyed agreement or refusal.

“This is an operation plan that Brother Midier, together with the Military, Foreign Affairs, and the Secret Intelligence Department, came up with a long time ago.

“Action codename: Sand King.”

Midier

Secret Intelligence Department

Sand King

Thales clung to those crucial words.

He took a deep breath, let go of the doorknob, turned around, and faced King Kessel the Fifth once more.

“Sand King, the Sand KingT’

Thales narrowed his eyes and searched for the royal family pedigree that Gilbert had explained to him.

“Are you talking about the grandson of the Virtuous King? The one who, in the year 552 of the Eradication Calendar, went on that ambitious desert campaign but ended up in a crushing defeat that left the sands soaked in blood? Fearing for his life, he left his loyal subjects behind and dug himself into a hole, all while claiming that ‘invisibility equals invincibility’. This led to the downfall of the golden era established by four previous kings. He became the Western Peninsula’s enduring joke, and his name—”29 Thales paused and scoffed softly.

“Kessel the Fourth?”

The Iron Hand King went quiet for a moment.

“No,” he firmly denied any ambiguity.

“I’m talking about the year 553, when he was betrayed by a powerful vassal and faced a crushing defeat. With only a small mercenary group, he managed to survive in the desert. Then, driven by remorse and determination, he turned things around. Despite his reputation for fearing death and living extravagantly, he chose to keep that mercenary group in the capital, paying them handsomely and providing valuable supplies. Eventually, he formed a professional army that owed

no allegiance to vassals, territories, blood ties, or services. This army laid the foundation for the royal family’s regular force. That was the ‘Sand King’—”

King Kessel’s gaze turned fierce.

“Kessel the Fourth.”

betrayed by a powerful vassal…

keep that mercenary group in the capital…

laid the foundation for the royal family’s regular force…

Thales paused to reflect as he listened to this different side of the biography.

“Now, take a seat.” King Kessel’s voice was stern and left no room for doubt. “Let’s talk.”

Talk. Thales sighed and smirked to himself, the curling of his lips unseen. He turned around slowly.

“I thought our fifteen minutes were up?” Thales quipped.

King Kessel snorted coldly and looked at him from a distance. “Yes. For you.”

Thales gathered himself, took a deep breath, pulled out a chair, and sat down again. “Of course. Speaking of which, while Vanguard Marigo shows great promise and trustworthiness,” the Prince added thoughtfully. “I believe we should carefully consider appointing him as the chief penal officer in charge of disciplining members of the royal family.”

He smiled subtly, fixing his gaze on King Kessel’s expression. “What’s your take on that, Your Majesty?”

However, at the head of the long table, King Kessel simply watched him in silence.

“Boy, before I have Marigo haul you out and deal with you,” the Iron Hand King’s gaze grew menacing, and his tone was far from friendly, “wipe that smug look off your face.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep